


Of Feathers and Wax

by BreathingSaturnsRings



Category: The 100 (TV), clarke and lexa - Fandom, clexa - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Lexa (The 100), Angst/Fluff, Clarke Griffin/ Lexa - Freeform, Clarke Griffin/Lexa Smut, Clexa, Doctor Clarke Griffin, Endgame Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Lesbians, No straights here no ma'am, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Survival, clarke and lexa - Freeform, clarke/lexa - Freeform, paths meet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24130264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreathingSaturnsRings/pseuds/BreathingSaturnsRings
Summary: In a different kind of apocalypse, will Clarke and Lexa still be able to find each other?orJust another goddamn reason to write about surviving the woods and my favorite couple.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> PNW, Oregon.

There are always things to pay attention to, that’s the most important thing to remember. This had always been the first rule, repeated so much it was burned into her brain.  
Everything is important; the way the wind blows, the color of the sky, the plants that break through the ground. Lexa brought her hand up to her face and looked to the sun, gauging the placement of where it sat. There wasn’t much time left, but she always made as much progress as possible while there was still light seeping through the canopy of leaves and pines. She pulled at the fraying rope tied around her body that was securing a makeshift bag. Unfortunately, there was a lot more to pay attention to than some foliage and weather right now. Her clothes stuck to her with the sweat that had been building up over.. three days? Five? How many times had the sun gone down since the last time she bathed, or had actual food?  
The rope over her shoulder and around her sides was rubbing her skin raw, and the liquid slowly leaking from her blisters were getting stuck to still cloth, only to be ripped off every time the bag was adjusted. This is a bad day, a bad month. It wasn’t all of the time that she became fixated on things like how the creases of her knees and her armpits were building up dead skin and rashing, or how her head was quite literally pulsing with the lack of enough water to sustain the current pace she was pushing herself to. It was only a matter of time before she found more supplies, found a water source or a dilapidated structure to hunker in and relax for a moment, but that thought did nothing to help the current cracking of her lips or bleeding of her feet.  
A mental list of supplies that needed to be scavenged started spinning throughout thoughts, along with daydreaming about how nice it would be to just strip out of these stiff soiled clothes and lay bare in a cold creek. She kept looking forward and thinking too far ahead until she was falling forward, her caught foot sending her sprawling. As always, landing on the forest floor was not a painless experience. The sticks and rocks broke her fall, if you could even call it “breaking a fall”. This is just great- she thought as she rolled over slowly, untangling her foot from the branches she was caught on. Her shoe slid off of her foot and she groaned as she saw that the strings holding her shoes together had torn yet again, and they had become too short and knotted to repair anymore. She pulled her sack over her head and fished around in the bag, hands securing a stick with a small amount of wire wrapped around it. After a tedious amount of bending the old wire back and forth, a small piece snapped off and a huff of breath escaped her lips. She fed the piece through the fraying holes of her shoes, pulling it tightly and twisting the two sides together until they looked secure.  
Lexa brought her dirty hands up to her face and pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes until she saw red light, and took in a deep but shaky breath. It seemed loud to her, almost a foreign noise. At first, that didn’t mean anything to her, only occupying a small thought. A word was on the tip of her tongue and she moved her lips around, trying to feel it out in her mouth. Naive, was the word. She was being naive, there was a warning festering in her brain she couldn’t comprehend. She wasn’t any louder than usual, the forest was quiet. The forest was dead fucking silent. How long ago did she last hear birds chirping, or a squirrel run across the ground? She threw the bag over her shoulder and whipped her head around, eyeing the way that she had come from. There was nothing there, she knew because the last place she had stopped barely had a puddle of water among the rocks of a dried riverbed, and it would set her back so much. It was the only option, being as she had no idea where the dead zone really was, only that she had been approaching it for a good amount of time. She let a scream rip through her, and when nothing responded she tracked back, following her own footsteps, retreating to a place that held absolutely nothing for her other than the sounds of life actually living.  
She didn’t stop moving until the sounds of birds started coming into focus again, and by that time her muscles were burning and sweat was dripping down her face and into her mouth, the salt parching her further. She hadn’t been near a dead zone in a long time, at least two passes of the leaves falling. She knew better than to get anywhere near them, the air was hardly better than toxic in the worst parts. She also knew there simply wasn’t anything there for her, there was no life in the places where nothing remained. She had never seen one herself, but her parents had told her of them in great detail.  
Lexa sat down on the edge of a rock, stretching out her weary muscles. She missed their stories, but there was no use thinking of these things. Her parents were long gone and so was her chance at making any real distance towards food or water during the full sun up. Now was the only thing that was important anymore, everything else that had ever happened be damned.  
She pulled out what little was left of her water canister- an old flask?- she thinks that’s the word for it anyway. She took two swigs and capped it, there were only two full suns left in there maximum before water was the biggest reason to worry. Usually water was everywhere- but this streak of heat had been relentless. She unwrapped her cloth and grabbed a few nuts and dried berries and threw them into her mouth, wincing at the unpleasant tastes and the gritty texture of dirt. She would do a lot of things to get her hands on a good apple, or a squirrel. She technically could rig a trap for some kind of rodent, but catching them was the relatively easy part. Cooking them without fire was more difficult. Fires were emergency only, as it was essentially the fastest way to alert Rats and Wallers of your presence. As unappealing as slowly eating this mixture sounded, she would do it instead of being killed, looted, and possibly eaten by Rats, or simply just killed for the fun of it by Wallers. She’s seen both fates fall on the unfortunate, and she would prefer falling to the animals. Lexa finishes swallowing down her small rations and backs herself against a tree, pulling scattered leaflitter up onto her legs and lets herself rest for a moment. 

A moment stretches much longer than she intended as she moves her arms underneath her stiff body and pushes herself upright again, wiping the dirt off of the right side of her face with the back of her hand. She pushes her hair back and goes to secure it with her withered hair tie, when it snapped and fell to the ground. She let her head fall back and hit the rough bark of the tree, this wasn’t a lucky period of time for her. It took a certain amount of mental coaxing to stand up and get ready to travel again, the sky was dark now and small clouds formed with every exhale. She pulled her tattered sleeves over her hands, balling up the material in her fists as she set off in a different direction. She needed to update her maps, but didn’t currently possess the patience to do so. Night was difficult to travel during, especially when clouds blocked out the moon. The ground was rugged and unforgiving and the bugs swarmed, finally emerging after the heat dissipated. Aside from the visibility, the night was fairly safe. Sure, there were still wild animals but those were much less of a threat than the other humans that roamed this rock with her. She mostly saw Rats travel during the day, and she knew that Wallers would never leave their safe confines without the comforting blanket of daylight.  
Lexa didn’t know how long she had been walking, only that she was choosing to follow the dried riverbed this time around. She usually didn’t take to such obvious paths, as the areas surrounding were typically gutted and had nothing to offer. This fact aside, she was out of ideas. She knew what was in most of the other directions, to some extent, and it wasn’t promising. She wanted to head for the mountains as soon as she got enough supplies to last her more than a few suns, but had no clue what lay in wait over the peaks. How does one prepare for the unfamiliar?  
Her whole life felt like she was trying to prepare for only the next day. There were times that she had more stability but nothing was permanent in this world. You could only hold down a place or supplies if you had enough power, and enough people. She had neither, so she had nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's better than clean clothes?  
> water... maybe water.

The wind brought cooler temperatures as the night went on and the river floor gradually changed to large rocks and boulders instead of smooth small stones. The moss that clung to the large surfaces were dry and felt scratchy against her skin. She scrambled up onto a large slab of stone wide enough to spread out on, and took in a long shaky breath. Her fingers were starting to bleed from navigating this terrain and her ankles were sore from the uneven and unstable ground.  
Lexa rolled her neck and laid down, shuffling her pack behind her head. Dawn was coming soon and that meant she would need to find an alternate route in the cover of trees to protect her from the sun and other potential threats. She knew this land well enough to be certain that where there is a water source -reliable or not- there had to be others lurking or living nearby. Continuing on this path would eventually run her into trouble, and she wasn't sure she could handle much more than a lone Rat in her current state.  
It had been a long time since she had to fight, with a preference of avoidance to conflict. She learned from a young age that the latter was the faster way to get killed. There had been a fair share of fighting for survival alone in her life, but that didn't mean she was prepared to face that situation yet again with shaking limbs and a foggy mind. She ran her hands over the smooth surface of the rock, cracking her eyes open to look at the color steadily changing in the sky. The deep blue was being diluted by hues of light orange and green, the sound of morning cutting through the stillness of night.  
She sat up slowly and pulled her pack to the front of her, emptying the contents gently. She surveyed the quickly dwindling supplies and gritted her teeth.  
"Two days water, about two feet of wire, one round of rope, about six days of food." She paused for a moment, trying to think of the word for the current item she held in her hand. It was a recent addition, picked up at the last place that still had anything to scavenge. She rolled it around between her thumb and her fingers. The two metal prongs were connected at the base, and light pressure from her fingertips brought the two sharp ends together. A memory fought its way through the cobwebs of her groggy brain, and she tried to remember what the word was that her mom had used for this tool. She remembers her mom's tired eyes lighting up with soft laughter as Lexa had shied away from them, terrified of the object she was approaching her with.  
"They're not going to hurt you, baby" she had cooed, lightly pulling Lexa's arm towards her. She laid it down on her leg and examined her hand closely.  
"That's a big sliver" she nodded appreciatively.  
"I wanted the mirror"  
"You can ask dad for help, you don't have to scavenge things by yourself." She tsked as she lightly poked at the glass shard stuck in Lexa's palm.  
"I'm going to be grown soon, I want to do it by myself" she responded, holding her head high.  
"You are such a brave little one" her mother smiled, shaking her head lightly. "So much responsibility on such small shoulders" a far away look took over her face, an expression she wore most of the time. Lexa reached forward and pressed her other small hand lightly to her mother's dirty cheek, staring intently at her. They locked eyes for a few seconds, and Lexa gave a little nod. Her mother focused yet again on her hand, this time carefully pulling the lodged piece of mirror out. A small bead of bright red blood took its place, but was gently dabbed away with a cloth. After a few moments the blood stopped beading up and all that was left was a small irritated dot on her palm. Lexa looked at it closely, inspecting the work her mother had done with the strange little tool.  
“What is this?” She asked, holding her hands out in request for what her mother held. She dropped it into Lexa’s hand so that she could play with it… and… Lexa squeezed her eyes shut as she struggled to remember what her mother had responded with. She held the tool now, similar in size and shape but more rusted than the one from her memories. She recalls the name her mother had supplied her with all those years ago starting with a T… tweegers, maybe? It didn’t matter much, she supposed. She tried to rattle off her supplies out loud in order to keep her speech up. She wasn’t planning on having to communicate verbally with anyone, but it helped her remain sane, she thought. “Tweegers, two knives, flint and steel, two small cloths, one compass, one tattered ass map and a broken pencil” She paused again, grabbing both parts of her pencil and examining the break. It was already small to begin with, but the fall earlier must have snapped it in half. She let it roll off her hand and back onto the rock. “Two pairs of underwear, one half roll of tape and two pads of gauze” She finished listing off her items and shook her head, staring at the torn garments, water damaged paper, and rusting metals. She would have to chance a city if there wasn’t a miracle soon. Cities were a bad gamble at best, mostly picked over throughout the years. Sometimes there were things left behind, and Lexa desperately needed so many things. She packed her bag back up aside from her messy map and compass, mentally charting out a way to get to the nearest city.  
Lexa was weary of heading East, she wasn’t sure where she currently was on the map. There was a chance she would find some smaller cities and groupings of buildings, there was also a chance she’d get too close to a Waller compound or another fucking dead zone. She knew the larger cities were far gone, and that the worst area was north of her current standpoint… she hoped. After folding the map and neatly stashing it at the top of her stuff, she tossed another mouthful of her berry mix into her mouth and slid off the rock, pack in tow and compass a familiar weight in her pocket. She pulled herself out of the riverbed, the loose dirt giving way underneath her fingers and feet as she pushed upwards. Lexa smoothed the hair out of her face, the grease and grime keeping it back as best as it could. She wondered what she would look like now, if she still had that mirror with her today. She didn’t think she wanted to know.  
The grasses and small alder trees were quickly taken over by large pines and thick underbrush as she pressed East. She kept her ears open to keep track of the birds and to hopefully not run headfirst into any unexpecting humans or animals. There was nothing for hours. She would startle the occasional deer or send birds flying away when she would step too close to their foraging, but it was a relatively calm journey so far. The thick ferns started to thin out as the canopy grew denser, the ground was cushioned with old leaves and fallen branches that had started to decay. The lack of heat was welcomed, but it came with a lack of bright light. There were rays filtering through the leaves overhead, mottling the forest floor with golden splotches. Lexa didn’t stop much, she needed to keep pushing because she had consumed more water than she had originally intended. Rations were as thin as ever and there was no way to stretch the water out for more than one day. A glint of light caught her eye to the left, down the ravine she had been following. She squinted to get a better look at the source. Whatever it was had been slowly taken over by dense salal and huckleberry bushes, obscuring most of it from her line of sight. She made her way down the ravine, letting herself gently slide down the steeper areas. Rocks scraped at her exposed skin and she could feel dirt spilling into her shoes and she carefully tripped down the ridge.  
The bottom evened out and she shifted from shuffling to steps as she found better footing. As she approached the metal structure she could see that it was a train turned over on its side, off the tracks by a good 10 feet. The cars were covered in leaves, branches, and rust. The forest was swallowing it hole, nature would eventually digest the entire beast. She climbed through a relatively unobstructed break in the carts, her feet finding purchase on the coupler. A vague memory pushed through her mind, one of a small worn wooden train that connected with magnets that she would push around on flat rocks and the wood of their shelter, watching the broken wheel try and turn until it eventually snapped off entirely. She squinted her eyes and tried to refocus her vision on what lay forgotten in front of her. From this slightly higher vantage she could pull herself up and over the top of it, feet kicking into the side to help her arms. She peered over into the open door, trying to see the contents inside. It looked like there could be storage bins but she wasn’t sure what they held or if they held anything at all. Lexa turned over, placed her stomach against the cool metal and eased herself slowly backwards, legs hanging into the train car as she continued to push backwards. Her body swung into the opening and she held herself with her hands still clutching the top metal. They burned and she could feel the rough edges digging into her calloused palms, she looked beneath her to ensure a clear spot and dropped. Her ankles ached with the small force of compression and the car echoed with the sound of her fall.  
Lexa blinked a few times trying to adjust to the low light of the new space and reached around to find the contents she had come in here for. Her fingers found plastic and her heart lightened, smoothing her hands up the edges to find a lid. She pried the top of the bin off, a loud pop following the action. She dragged it into the light that was shining through the opening and looked inside. The contents were enclosed in plastic and she excitedly started tearing her way through, fingers finding soft fabric underneath. She grabbed and pulled yanking out a shirt from the tightly packed bundle. Clean clothes, it was an entire bin full of shirts. She swiveled her head around, trying to make out how many bins there were. She would have to go through all of this, and see what other cars she could get into. She let out a sob of relief as she pressed the fabric to her face and it smelled like plastic instead of sweat and blood. She peeled off her pack and her own shirt, gently tugging on the new one. It was the best feeling she had felt in months, really. Lexa was making quick work of tearing through the crates when she stooped for a moment, the hair rising on the back of her neck. She heard footsteps outside, so soft she could barely make them out. She reached for her pack slowly, trying not to make a sound. It could just be an animal her head tried to reason with her thudding heart. She stayed completely still, one hand on her bag and the other keeping her stable in her crouched position. She waited there for a few minutes, adrenaline rushing through her veins as she took shallow breaths. Lexa stood, bringing her bag straight up with her as her mind raced for what to do. She hadn’t heard anything for a while, so whatever it was could have left her alone. She moved to take a step forward and froze, the thudding on the metal an unmistakable sound. Someone was climbing the car she was in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salty

Clarke tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the wind lightly moving it against her neck. There was sweat beading up on her chest and the morning sun already pounding down on her.  
"Bad day to wear a black shirt" she grumbled to herself as she hurried down the field, her bag digging into her shoulder. She had really wanted to sleep longer last night, but she lost that option about ten months ago.   
"Hi Clarke!" She heard the call before she saw the source.   
"Monty, good morning! how's the garden?"   
Monty used his arm to wipe the sweat on his forehead, a small shovel still held in his dirty hand.  
"It's not liking this dry heat, that's for sure"   
"Yeah, I don't think anything is liking it. We keep getting people in the med bay complaining of headaches and dizziness."  
"Yikes. Are you guys handling it okay? I know it's been a while since the scouts have gone out."  
"Oh we aren't using many resources, everyone just forgets to drink water and take breaks from the sun."  
"What would we do without you, Clarke? The mother of our people." Monty gave her a goofy grin with that last statement.  
"Oh God, please no. Let's leave that role to my mother." Clarke scrunched up her nose.  
"You worry about everyone already! So doting."   
"I'm leaving now, asshole. Have fun with your lettuce."  
"It's actually broccoli, and I will."   
Clarke chuckled and shook her head, continuing toward the buildings.  
"Have fun with a med ward full of big babies!" He called after her.  
Clarke thought that Monty had put it perfectly as she pushed through the swinging doors to be met with at least 15 people all complaining of heat distress. 10 of them were scouts and guards. She wondered how such dense people were supposed to be the ones keeping them safe and stocked.   
"Dr.Griffin" Sinclair greeted, smiling warmly at her.  
"Sinclair, you know you're supposed to call me Clarke. Reserve that fancy title for my mother" she scowled jokingly. As if being summoned, her mother seemed to appear out of nowhere.   
"You're late" she commented, staring pointedly at Clarke. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she checked her watch. One minute past 8. She walked to the back and set her bag in the supply room, looking around at the contents. She grabbed a few packets of salt from a drawer and mixed them into some water bottles that were filled on the counter. She put them in a bag and headed out to the main room.  
"Clarke!" Bellamy barked, head resting on a pillow. To the right of him was Finn, who perked up hearing her name.  
"What brings you to my neck of the woods?" She asked, already a little annoyed.  
"We just aren't feeling good."  
"Ah, specific. Very helpful." She actually rolled her eyes this time.  
"Come on princess, don't be like that" Finn chimed in. Her stomach turned at the name.   
"Don't, Finn" she warned. He looked down again, long brown hair flopping in front of his face.   
"We've just felt a little sick since we were out of the walls yesterday"  
"Out of the walls? I didn't think scouts were going out in this heat.”  
"Scouts aren't, we went out to hunt on our own." Bellamy's smile faded when he was met with Clarke's real scowl.  
"You're both idiots. We don't need any more food right now."  
"We weren't hunting for food.”  
"Are you fucking kidding me?"   
"Clarke, a pack of Savages passed too close to the fence yesterday, they were only a mile away."  
"Passed."  
"What?" His face took on a quizzical expression. Clarke's fists were clenched.  
"You said they passed. As in went away, they weren't going to come for us."  
"They always could, Clarke."  
"Oh, because a group of people with no guns and minimal supplies could really do any damage to our people in our walls?" She shot back, skin crawling.  
"You have NO idea what it's like out there, what they're like" he growled back, jaw clenching.   
"Oh don't act like you're doing it for the betterment of our society, you do it because you're bored."  
Bellamy stood up quickly, staring down Clarke with anger burning in his eyes. Clarke reached into her bag and pulled out two bottles, setting them on the small table next to her, paying no attention to Bellamy towering over her.   
"Drink water and rest, that's all you need." She responded, turning around to leave.  
"It's not like we do it for fun,” Finn said softly. Clarke whipped back around, heat rising to her head.   
"Don't you?" She spat back, and then hurried away, mind busy. She knew that there were certain precautions that their society had to take in order to protect what they had. Over the years, protecting the space from outsiders became more of a sport than a necessity. Everyone who stayed in the safe confines knew this, but no one talked of it. Sometimes if they were close enough you could hear the semi-automatic gunshots break the sound of nature, accompanied by far off screams. She had only ever treated one person that had been hurt by someone outside of the wall, but the attitude changed even more then. People feared anything outside, and fear turned into hate. Anyone outside of the wall was a Savage. It was true, Clarke had never met anyone outside before. She had no idea what they were like. There were stories of them being violent, wordless people. That everyone in the wilderness had already reverted to a more primal state. Clarke didn't put much faith in those stories, but she wasn’t doing anything to stop it, either.  
It was a long day of seeing people with the same problem of heat distress, aside from Raven who came for more pain medication. Clarke was exhausted by the end of the day. She had gone on a walk with Raven in lieu of sitting down and having lunch. Raven put a decent amount of weight on the arm that Clarke had offered her, walking her to the garden and back. They didn't move quickly, Raven's leg had gotten worse and she was still trying to figure out a brace. Clarke would gladly give up any of her lunches to spend time with Raven, she knew that her friend was going mad with how little she could get around by herself. She made a mental note that she needed to try to convince Raven to use crutches again.  
She took a swig of water as she started her way back home, her mom was staying late at the med ward.. again. She took a different route home, choosing the longer route in order to walk through the orchard. She plucked an apple off of one of the shorter trees, biting into the crisp warm fruit. She hummed in satisfaction, this year was even better than the last. Jasper and Monty had been working on the farms since school ended. People could say what they wanted about the pair being troublemakers, but they were amazing in the field of growing food. She smiled as she made her way through the trees, admiring the amount of fruit they had. Clarke had presented to Marcus that they needed to start a crop of plants that could be used for medical purposes, and was met with immediate action. She looked to her left, past the trees, and saw the newly plowed land. A warm feeling filled her, proud of her idea and gardeners. She crossed the hill to her house a little lighter than she had felt the rest of the day. As she was reaching for the front door she heard a loud thud and panic rose in her. She threw the door open and ran inside, straight for the back bedroom. Her father was laying on the floor next to a chair, wincing in pain. The apple fell out of her hand and rolled across the scuffed wood floor as she rushed to his side, dropping onto her knees.   
"What happened?!?"   
"Clarke, don't worry about me. I was just trying to fix the fan, it kept clicking."   
"Dad! You're not supposed to be out of bed!" She scolded as she helped him sit upright.  
"You know I'm not the type to lay around all day."  
"Dad, you're sick. Please stop being so stubborn. I could have gotten Raven to come fix the fan." She looped her arms under his and lifted him by the armpits. He grunted and she pressed forward, sitting him on the edge of the bed.   
“Reyes wouldn’t have been able to get up there any better than me,” he huffed.  
She let go and repositioned herself to the side of the bed, helping him lay back.   
“Sinclair, then.”  
“He’s a busy man.” Her father waved his hand in dismissal of the idea. She saw a huge bruise already blooming on his arm. She shook her head, knowing that the second she left him alone again he'd be back up and out of the bed. You can't keep Jake Griffin down, she knew this.   
Once her father was comfortable and squared away, Clarke cleaned up the small mess the apple had made and threw the rest in the compost. Her feet were sore from being on them all day and she sat for a moment on the couch, listening to the birds through the open window. After taking a moment to catch her breath she stood and tidied the house a little, sweeping and wiping off the counter. She opened the cabinet in search of something easy to make for dinner and pulled out a jar of beans and a bag of rice. They were almost out of salt again, and she knew the chances of the scouts going to the ocean just so they could boil down some salt were slim. Salt was just something they were going to live without, she supposed. There are worse things than not having salt. She took a third of the food to the back room, setting it on the table next to her sleeping dad. She knew he wouldn’t eat much, if at all. She ate her share and put the remaining third in the fridge. She left it open for a moment, basking in the cold coming from inside. She knew this was a waste of electricity, but with all of their solar panels and the sun they’d been having recently she decided that the compound could spare it. She looked to Jake’s medication on the kitchen counter, dwindling more quickly than they had predicted. She decided that the compound could spare more of that, too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all fun and games until somebody gets stabbed in the leg.

Lexa used the sound of the shuffling outside to try and mask her light steps, and she pressed her back into the cool metal against the same wall the person was climbing. Her blood turned cold as she heard footsteps above her head. She pulled the knife out of her pack and held it tightly, knuckles turning white. Legs swung down facing towards her and Lexa lunged forward, driving her blade into the intruders thigh. A scream sounded through the space, followed by the person falling and landing on a bin with a hard thud. Lexa hesitated a moment, the body was still. The girl that had fallen was young, probably no older than Lexa. She had long, dark, matted hair that was braided in two places. Her build was similar to Lexa's as well, lean and muscular. Overall not the biggest threat, but Lexa should move quickly nonetheless, she could be here with others. Rats almost always moved in packs. She moved forward to pull the knife out of her leg, hands securing around the handle. A force slammed into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her and sending her sprawling backwards. The girl was up and moving with the momentum of kicking Lexa in the stomach, throwing her body on top of Lexa and securing her hands around her throat. Lexa reached forward and grabbed the knife, starting to twist as she choked against the pressure.   
"Fucking hell, STOP." The girl screamed in her face, pushing hard on Lexa's throat and then rolling off of her, clutching the knife and her leg. Lexa laid there, gasping for breath and hands moving up to her sore neck. She turned her head to look at the girl and was met with bright blue eyes, fierce but spilling tears.   
"I wasn't going to kill you." She rasped, turning her head back to her leg "I'm just looking for someone."   
Lexa didn't respond for some time, just sat up and stared at the girl.   
"Who?" She finally broke the silence  
"His name is Lincoln. We got separated a few days ago. Tall, bald, beautiful. Have you seen him?"  
"I don't.. see people." Lexa responded, shaking her head.  
"I can tell, quite the greeting you gave me."  
"I'm sorry," she thought she meant it.   
"I understand. It's a dog eat dog world out here. I could use a little help, though," she winced. Lexa nodded and moved to her side, observing the wound. She wouldn't be able to walk on the leg. Lexa pulled a shirt out of an open bin and tore a long strip off, tying it tightly around the girl's leg, and she cried out in pain.   
"You have to be quiet."  
"You stabbed me in the fucking leg!" She spat back.  
"Bite down on this," Lexa held out the rest of the tattered shirt. The girl took it, wadding a piece up.   
"Octavia," she said, before putting the cloth in her mouth. Lexa was only confused for a moment before she realized it was the girl’s name.   
"Lexa," she responded, earning a nod from Octavia. Lexa met eyes with her again before she turned her attention back to the wound. She grabbed onto the knife with one hand, using her other hand to stabilize the blade at the entrance. She pulled out quickly, straight up. Octavia's scream was muffled by the shirt. She applied pressure to the remaining gash, hands quickly becoming wet with blood. Octavia was taking labored breaths through the fabric her teeth were still clenched on. She moved her hand to Octavia's mouth, tugging lightly on the fabric until she released it. Lexa threw it to the side and reached for another shirt to pack onto the wound. She secured it by looping the arms around her leg and tying tightly right over the bleeding.   
"I have water in my bag, on top of the car." Octavia gritted her teeth. Lexa nodded and moved away from her, pulling a bin over to line up with the edge of the opening overhead. She climbed up and reached for the ledge, hands burning in protest again. She jumped as high as she could, pulling her body up with the added momentum. She had her arms fully on the top now, metal pressing against her chest. Her legs kicked as she reached forward with one hand to secure the bag strap, her fingers barely brushing the material. She dug one side of her body harder against the side, straining her arm. Her fingers found better purchase and she gripped onto the strap, letting herself slide and drop back down onto the bin, falling backwards onto the floor. She opened the bag and marveled at the contents. Octavia was well stocked. She pulled out a large bottle of water with a strange top on it.   
"What is this?" She asked, handing the bottle to Octavia.   
"Water filtration bottle." Lexa was mesmerized.   
"How do you have so much?" Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. Octavia took a long drink of the bottle and looked at Lexa out of the side of her eye. She held the bottle out towards her. Lexa tentatively took it from her hand, studying it.   
"You can drink, you know." Octavia made a sound close to laughter. Lexa stared at her, waiting for her to change her mind. When she didn't, Lexa took a slow drink.   
"Thank you for helping me," Octavia said lightly.  
"I did stab you."  
"True. Most would have finished the job, though."  
"Does that make me better or worse?" This drew laughter from Octavia, followed by wincing.   
"Help me up?" Lexa thought it was more of a demand than a question.   
"I don't think that's a good idea."  
"Please." Lexa sighed and stood, grabbing Octavia by both arms and lifting. She balanced on one leg for a second, and then put pressure on her injured leg. She immediately dropped, Lexa catching most of her weight and easing her down.   
"Fucking hell," Octavia breathed, squeezing her eyes shut, "I can't walk."  
"I know."  
"Are you going to leave me here?" Lexa studied her, she looked like she was trying not to be scared. Her stomach twisted.   
"No." She replied against her better judgement. Octavia looked up at her, eyes wide in surprise.   
"Okay"   
They sat in silence until Lexa couldn't handle the stillness, getting up to rummage through the bins again.   
"Do you want clean clothes?" Octavia cracked an eye open at this.  
"That's what's in here? You stabbed me over some clothes?" It was Lexa's turn to laugh now.   
"I stabbed you because I thought you'd kill me."  
"Fair enough. Yeah, I probably need new pants now." Lexa headed over to the bins and started rummaging around looking for clothes that would fit and be good use. She threw a few shirts over to Octavia. She worked on tearing strips apart as well, for clean dressings when she would have to change Octavia's out. She silently hoped she could get Octavia out of here soon and continue on her way. Night fell on the pair, and the darkness forced Lexa to stop searching through the contents of the cart. She sat down next to Octavia who was now covered in sweat, her head resting awkwardly on her shoulder. Lexa woke her up by calling her name softly. She helped her onto the pile of clothes she had fashioned into a sort of bed, and laid more clothes down on top of her.   
"You should eat," Octavia mumbled.  
"I'll eat when you do," Octavia nodded and pointed at her bag. Lexa moved it over to her and watched her fish a container out. She opened it and grabbed two pieces of leathery meat out. She held one over to Lexa.  
"You don't have to give me your food," Lexa muttered.  
"If you die, I die. Can't get out of here on my own"   
"I have my own food."   
"Just take it." She sighed. Lexa took the piece, biting down into the stiff texture. After the first experimental bite, she ate ravenously. She tore off chunks and inhaled them so fast she almost choked. After she had finished the whole piece, she looked over to Octavia, who was watching her with wide eyes.   
"You must've been hungry. I felt like I was just watching a wild dog." Lexa brought her hands down, realizing the backs of them were still cracking with dried blood. She turned them over and was relieved to see her palms were relatively clean after the hours of sifting through the bins and tearing fabric.   
"You never answered me, earlier." Octavia looked up from her food she had turned her attention to.   
"What question?"  
"How do you have so much stuff?"   
"I have friends that help me."   
"You belong to a group?" Octavia's face screwed up at that, head moving down again.   
"Not anymore. I was on my own for a while. Lincoln found me on the brink of death," her voice cracked.  
"I'm sorry."   
"Why?" Lexa didn't have a response for that.   
"Where do you come from?" Octavia changed the subject.  
"South"  
"No I mean- do you have people?" Lexa shook her head.  
"My people have been dead for years."   
"You've been alone for years?" Lexa nodded.   
"I'm sorry?"   
"Why?"   
"Touché"   
"What?"  
"It's uh. It's a figure of speech," Lexa still looked lost. "Forget it." Octavia paused, looking unsure.  
"Just ask," Lexa said.  
"What happened to them?"  
"They were killed. We had survived a long time, so we thought we were relatively safe. It was me and my parents, we traveled with another family we met. Indra and Gustus, and they had a daughter around my age. Her name was Anya.” Lexa paused, thinking about the girl she had grown up with. She thought of the times that Anya would smear mud on their faces and they would run through the woods together, or wrestle each other. She had told Lexa that they were training to take over the land anytime Lexa asked what they were doing. Her lips curved into something that was almost a smile, but she dropped it when she continued. “We settled for too long, and the Wallers found us. I was the only one that got out." Lexa didn't know why she had shared so much. Maybe she was tired of being alone.   
"I understand family loss. Did you go after who killed them?" Lexa shook her head.  
"The Wallers are too strong."  
"Wallers?"  
"The people in the walls. The people with the guns." If it wasn't so dark, she would have seen Octavia pale more than she already had.   
“What happened to your people?” Lexa was anxious to change the subject away from her.  
“They kicked me out.”  
“Why?”  
“I went after the man who killed my mother.”  
“And that was a bad thing?”  
“He was our leader.”  
“I didn’t think Rats had leaders.” Lexa’s eyebrows knit. She didn’t think Rats kicked anyone out, either. From what she had seen of their groups, they had no rules, no structure.   
“Rats?” Octavia asked, pulling Lexa from her thoughts.  
“It’s the word my people used to use for the ones that scavenge and eat one another.”  
“Ah, the savages. Not everyone out here is like that. Lincoln wasn’t.”  
“You aren’t, either.”  
“No, I’m not.” Octavia agreed, shaking her head.  
“So your people were not like the Rats.”  
“No, they weren’t. They were bad in their own way, though.”  
“All people are.” Lexa said softly, thinking of the things she had done to stay alive. To her left, Octavia was already drifting asleep. Lexa laid down in her own pile of clothing, but sleep did not come for her until the sky was already turning light again.

After several days of being stuck in the train car together, Lexa was getting frustrated.  
“Talk me through it again.” Octavia’s voice sounded over Lexa’s pacing footsteps on the metal floor.  
“There are Twenty-Eight sections. I can only get into four of them, including this one. The rest don't have doors on this side, or are locked shut. I haven’t been able to get through the locks with anything yet.” Lexa paused and looked at her hands, bleeding and bruised. There was a thin strip of cloth wrapped around her left one, which had a deep gash from a jagged piece of metal she had tried to pry open. She took a deep breath and continued. “Car one and two are full of long metal poles. They are of no use to us. Car three is us, just clothes. Car four is full of what appears to have once been crates of food, but it’s all been eaten and ripped apart by animals. I think. Regardless it-”  
“Is of no use to us.” Octavia finished for her, having heard this all several times. Lexa nodded, turning to continue pacing.  
“We have three days of water left, between us, and eight, maybe nine days of food. The supplies we have are useful, but not for eating or getting us out of here. I can trap an animal, but a fire could bring trouble.”  
“No fires.” Octavia interrupted. She always said no fires. Lexa understood.  
“We are waiting for rainfall, but the sky has been clear. We have minimal options.”  
Octavia nodded, adding nothing.  
“I’m going to take the bin out.” Lexa said, itching for something to do.  
“Let me pee first.” Octavia said, reaching for help. Lexa helped her up and over to the small bin. She handed her a strip of cloth and looked away, still holding her arm out for support. Once Octavia was done, Lexa helped her back to the pile of clothes and slid the lid back on the bin. She stepped up onto the makeshift stairs she had made out of the plastic tubs and pushed the bin up and onto the top, climbing up after it. She tossed it onto the ground and let herself down after it, picking it up and starting her walk away from the train. After walking a good distance, she opened the bin and poured it out, grimacing. She knew that it was a necessity to dump the waste and bloodied bandages far from where they were in order to not attract predators to them, but it certainly wasn’t her favorite thing to do. Her and Octavia had grown close enough through mutual suffering that she wasn’t just going to leave her in a situation she had caused. That didn’t stop Lexa from worrying about her safety and survivability. They needed to find more water and food. She needed Octavia’s fever to break, too, but they didn’t talk about that. Not yet.  
When she got back to the container, she saw Octavia fumbling with a book she hadn’t seen before.  
“What’s that?” Octavia didn't look up at Lexa’s question.  
“A journal.”  
“What’s it for?”  
“Keeping track.”  
“Keeping track of what?” She looked up now, meeting Lexa’s eyes.  
“Supplies, places, days.” She scrunched up her nose in thought. “How many days have we been here?”  
“Four.” Lexa supplied  
“Fuck. Shit. Fuck.”  
“What?”  
“I need you to do something.”  
“What is it?”  
“I need you to go get something from my friends. We could survive much longer if you do.”  
“No.”  
“Lexa.”  
“I said no.”  
“Hear me out.” Lexa nodded for Octavia to explain. Octavia took a deep breath and told Lexa where she needed to go. Lexa’s blood turned cold.  
“There is no fucking way.” Lexa’s whole body was shaking.  
“We will die in here, Lexa.”  
“You are asking me to die out there.”  
“I’m not. I can tell you exactly where to go, how to get there safely.”  
“There is no safely!” Lexa’s voice was louder now, face bright red.  
“We have no choice.”  
“I will not go.”  
“Lexa.”  
“NO.” She shouted, and climbed quickly back out of the car to go check every last door and latch on the train for the ninth time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's only fair.

The week hadn't gotten any easier since Monday. The heat wouldn’t let up and morale was low. They didn’t have the water reserves to water the entire farm for any extended amount of time, and everyone knew this. It could only be a matter of time before it rained again, right? Clarke cursed under her breath as she looked up to the blue sky, not even a small cloud in sight. It had been another long day in the med ward, and she had almost been seen by Jackson when she had picked the lock on the medicine cabinet. She reached for the small bottle in her bag, fingers feeling the smooth edges.   
“Clarke! Wait up.” She yanked her hand out of her bag as if burned, turning to face Bellamy as he jogged up to her. His curly hair was getting long, falling into his eyes with every step.  
“You need a haircut.”  
“You want to give me one?”  
“No,” she said, turning around and motioning for him to follow her anyway. He grinned widely at her, that same goofy smile he had since he was a kid. They had always been close to a sibling-like dynamic. Too different to like each other all of the time, too close to ever hate each other. He was a real pain in the ass, though.   
She sat him down in a chair she pulled from the dining table once they were inside. He plopped down and looked around her kitchen.  
“It’s cleaner than normal,” he noted.  
“I do all of the cleaning now.”  
“Ah, makes sense. Jake used to always have so many projects laying around, it’s weird to see this space without them.” Clarke’s jaw clenched and she moved to the drawer that held the scissors.  
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”  
“It’s okay.”   
“He’ll be back up and tinkering in no time.” Bellamy stated, his grin returning. Clarke smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes.  
“Yeah,” she agreed, but she didn’t believe it. She didn’t think Bell did, either. She moved to the back of his head and started at the nape of his neck, cutting in memorized actions. She had been cutting his hair for years now. When the Blake's mother was exiled, Abby Griffin had started cutting the siblings’ hair. When Abby started practically living at the med ward, the responsibility was taken up by Clarke. Now she only gave one of the siblings haircuts. She let out a breath, eyes stinging. They were both silent for some time, but Bellamy was the one to break it.  
“It’s your turn to take the bag out.”   
“Fuck, it’s already been two weeks?”  
“Yeah, I can bring it over once it gets dark. I’m on duty tonight, so it’ll have to be earlier than usual.”  
“Okay, I’ll get some of our extra rations together.”  
“Thank you.”  
“You don’t have to keep thanking us.”  
“She’s my sister. My responsibility.”  
“Bell, we are all practically family. She’s all of our responsibilities.” He nodded at her words. Since Octavia was exiled- about seven months now- their friend group had been putting together supplies for her and taking it to a weak spot in the fence. They hadn’t been caught yet, but it was an act that would get them exiled as well. They all took turns bearing the danger, but Raven had to stop once her leg got worse. It was up to Clarke, Bellamy, Monty and Jasper now.   
“All done!” She said, and he turned his head back and forth so she could survey her work. She nodded to him and he gave her another smile, standing up and brushing his shirt off. He moved to the closet and grabbed the broom, sweeping all of the hair up and tossing it in the trash.   
“Thank you.”  
“No sweat.”  
“I’ll swing by with the stuff later.”  
“I’ll see you then.” She shut the door after him, breathing deeply.  
“Don’t get caught.” Her father’s voice sounded from behind her. She startled, turning around.  
“Dad, I didn’t know you were up.”  
“I’m serious, Clarke.”  
“I know.” She sighed, moving to her bag and pulling out the bottle. “Got you something.” She smiled, shaking the pills in their container.  
“You stole those, didn’t you?” Jake’s eyebrows furrowed.  
“You were running out too quickly.”  
“You can’t steal things for me Clarke, you’re going to get yourself killed.” Her father was rarely angry, but she recognized that he was right now.  
“Dad, you aren’t getting better.”  
“Well then let me not get better! Damn it, Clarke. Between you hauling off supplies to Octavia and stealing medicine for me it’s like you want to be thrown out.” He was shaking now, she didn’t know if it was from the physical strain or the emotion.  
“Sit down, please.” She pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes. He nodded and sat down on the same chair that Bellemy had just gotten out of. She crouched down in front of him, holding his hands in hers.  
“I just want everyone to be okay, dad.” She whispered softly, looking down at the floor. He gave her hands a soft squeeze.  
“I know, honey. I love that about you. I just couldn’t live with myself if you got caught trying to take care of me.” She nodded, understanding his feelings.  
“I’m careful, dad.”  
“You can’t ever be too careful, Clarke.” She nodded again. She knew she wasn’t going to stop getting her people what they needed, but she would keep that thought to herself.

Bellamy had brought the bag over just past nine, and she had sorted through it to see what she could best contribute. She added bread and some fruit to the top of the bag, as well as some more rope and iodine tablets. Clarke spent the few hours left going over the supplies and thinking about how she could start getting more. She knew Octavia had mentioned someone else to her a month and a half ago, but had made Clarke promise not to tell the others. When her watch read 11:40, she slung the bag onto her shoulder and made her way out of the back door, careful to not wake her sleeping parents. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she followed the trees to the back end of the compound, searching for the piece of metal that was propped against the wall, the only chunk that was unsecured in the entire perimeter. She grabbed it with both hands, moving it quietly and leaning it a few feet away. She laid on the ground and brought her watch close to her face. Octavia should be arriving soon, she was always on time.   
At 12:04 Clarke started to worry, pushing her head through the opening and surveying her surroundings. She heard light footsteps in the treeline in front of her, just out of sight.  
“Octavia,” she called in a loud whisper. The footsteps stopped. Clarke’s heartbeat rushed. She breathed out a sigh of relief as a figure emerged from the shadows, long hair messy and illuminated softly by the moon. She stepped closer and Clarke squinted, her brain working quickly. She saw it wasn’t Octavia too late, the person was already reaching for her. Clarke opened her mouth to scream and the girl’s face came into focus at the same time her hand slapped over Clarke’s mouth. She looked scared.   
“Octavia sent me.” She whispered. Clarke’s eyebrows pushed together and she nodded slowly, the girl pulled her hand back. Her eyes were big and green, face covered in dirt.   
“I have to grab the bag, it’s just inside.” She said. The girl nodded, biting at her upper lip. Clarke shuffled backwards and grabbed the bag, pushing it out and emerging after it.   
“I’m Clarke.” She supplied. The girl looked up from the bag.  
“Lexa.”  
“I thought Octavia was traveling with someone named Lincoln.”  
“I have heard of him, I have not met him. They were seperated.” Lexa was not looking at Clarke, instead her attention was back on the bag. “Is there medicine in here?”  
“No. Do you need medicine?” Lexa nodded in response.  
“What kind?”  
“Anything to help a stab wound.”  
“You have a stab wound??” Clarke asked, bewildered. The girl seemed to be moving around fine.  
“Octavia does.” Clarke’s mellowing heart rate shot up again.  
“Is she okay?”  
“She won't be, without medicine.”  
“Where was she stabbed?”  
“The leg, it’s deep.”  
“I can get you some, tomorrow. Can you come back at this time?” The question looked like it brought physical pain to Lexa, but she nodded anyways.  
“I can get you more water, too. Is there anything else you need?”   
“Something to get through locks.”  
“What kind of locks?” Lexa looked like she was trying to think of the word. She shaped her fingers on one hand into a U shape, and shaped the other into a circle.   
“A padlock.” Clarke guessed, “I’ll look around.”  
“Thank you,” Lexa said, grabbing the bag and moving to leave. Clarke caught her by the hand and Lexa pulled out of her grip quickly.   
“Thank you.” Clarke breathed out.  
“For what?”   
“Helping her.”  
“It’s only fair. I’m the one that did it.” Lexa said cooly as she turned and walked away, disappearing again into the treeline. Clarke was left speechless against the wall, mouth slightly open. She shook her head and blinked her eyes, turning and crawling back through the opening. She moved the metal piece back into its place and started back towards her house. She thinks that was the most confusing interaction she had ever had.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get this bread.

Making her way back to the train in the dark was slightly easier than finding the Wallers in the first place, but not by much. It was a long distance away and her muscles were sore and aching. Lexa had stood in wait outside of the compound from the time the darkness had set, not exactly sure where to go or how to find the entrance. She had been walking through the brush, doubling back when she had heard the soft whisper. She was worried the girl- Clarke- would have alerted the rest of her people, but Lexa had gotten to her first. This did not change the fact that Lexa was still buzzing with adrenaline. She hated being close to those walls. It went against every sensible part of her brain. A shiver ran through her body when she thought about doing it all over again the following night. At least she knew where to go, and this time she knew what she was up against. She thought of the small blonde again, certain that if it came to it she could overpower Clarke. Lexa climbed up the outside of the ravine, her feet digging into the soil. She wished that there had been shoes among the clothes, but her luck never ran that deep. She supposed that finding something that hadn't been completely picked over was incredibly lucky in the first place. The heavy bag of supplies was digging painfully into her shoulder, and she shifted it slightly to move the weight. She pressed forward, hands grabbing into sticks and branches for leverage up the steep incline. When she reached the top she hugged out a breath, going down this thing wasn't much better than going up. She started down the other side now, grabbing at branches to try and stabilize herself. Leaves tore off in her hands, rubbing her cracked and scratched up skin stinging. Her feet scrambled to find purchase with every step. She fell twice, once sliding down when the ground wasn't stiff enough to hold her feet, and once when the bag got caught on a branch. She had been yanked backwards straight onto her tailbone. She was not pleased about either one. Lexa approached the train car and tapped on the metal sides so that Octavia would not be alarmed by her arrival, though she probably heard her blunder the entire way down. She climbed up the side, and slid her body down into the hole, her feet touching the top bin. She let herself down slowly, legs shaking from exhaustion at this point. Octavia's eyes followed her struggle.   
"You look like shit."   
"Thanks, so do you." Lexa meant it when she roamed her eyes over Octavia's face, pale and sweating. She couldn't see herself, but she supposed Octavia meant it, too.   
"What'd you bring home?" At this Lexa laughed.  
"Is that what we're calling this place now?"   
"Any better ideas?" Lexa looked around at the rusted sides, the piles of clothes, the waste bin in the corner. She sighed, because truthfully she hadn't been in a better place in years. She shook her head.  
"Home sweet home it is." She surrendered the bag to Octavia, turning her back to face the wall and sliding down it. Octavia unzipped the contents and a smile broke her otherwise pained expression.   
“She made us bread.”  
“She made me nothing.”  
“Oh come on, it’s for you now, too.”  
“I don’t even know what bread is.” Octavias’ head snapped up at this, studying Lexa.   
“You’ve never had bread?”   
“Not to my knowledge, no.”  
“Cheese?”  
“Don’t even know what that is.”  
“Milk?”  
“Again, not to my knowledge, unless we called it something else.”  
“White creamy drink, from cows.”  
“Haven’t come across many cows, and not for a very long time. So no, I haven’t had milk.”  
“Fuck, Lexa, what do you eat?”  
“Berries, nuts, sometimes eggs or meat but I don’t really start fires so I don’t really eat meat. I eat a lot of free growing fruits when I come across them, though.”  
“That sounds entirely miserable.” Lexa shrugged, looking down at her legs  
“I’ve never known anything different.”  
“Let’s change that.” Octavia said with a glint in her eye, her smile returning. She ripped off a chunk of the bread, holding it out. Lexa tentatively took it, bringing it to her nose to smell.  
“It smells kind of like rosemary.”  
“Glad you even know what that is.”  
“If it grows out of the ground around here I know what it is.” Octavia nodded at this.  
“She always bakes it with rosemary, and sometimes garlic.” Octavia ripped off a piece for herself and brought it to her nose as well. “Not this time though, just rosemary.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and then bit off a huge bite and chewed it loudly. Once she swallowed she looked back to Lexa, who was in the same exact position, bread held to her face.  
“Are you just going to hold it, or are you going to actually eat it?” Lexa chuckled softly and bit off a small piece, chewing slowly. Her eyes widened and a closed mouth smile cracked her thoughtful expression.  
“It’s good, right?” Octavia laughed when Lexa nodded her head furiously in response, taking another, much larger bite. “Whoa slow down, bread doesn’t always go down easy. Drink some water.” Octavia held the water jug out and Lexa took it with both hands, taking a long drink to help the aggressive amount of bread to travel down her esophagus.  
“Holy shit.” Lexa breathed, licking some crumbs off of her lips.  
“Holy shit is right, Clarke is one of the best bakers I know. You can have more.”  
“I don’t want to eat it all.”  
“Smart to conserve our food, but they’ll have more for us in two weeks. If you’re up for going back in two weeks, that is. Hopefully I’ll have healed more by then.” Lexa chewed on another bite of bread, swallowing and clearing her throat before she spoke.  
“I’m going back tomorrow. I asked Clarke for medication, and she said she could get it by the same time tomorrow night.”  
“Tomorrow? Are you sure?”  
“I’m positive. Why?”  
“The dates work because my brother is in charge of patrol on those days. He keeps the area clear for me.” Octavia could see Lexa pale at these words. “If Clarke said tomorrow, she must have something up her sleeve. I trust her.”  
“I do not.”  
“Then trust me. Please. Clarke has a way of getting what she wants, she makes things happen.”  
“Let’s hope for all of our sakes that you are right.”  
“I am,” Octavia said, nodding her head with a distant look in her eyes. “I am.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clockwork

“Heda! Heda, down!” Bellamys’ voice sounded in the distance. Clarke wiped a tear leaving the corner of her eye and pushed at her surprise attacker. She let out another bout of laughter as Heda was not deterred, her paws once again pinning Clarke to the ground. A trail of hot slobber was painted across her face,  
and her laughter was muffled by her now tightly closed mouth. She gained a little more control, sitting up and wrapping her arms around the dog.  
“Who's the best girl, Heda? Who?” She cooed as she held on tightly, the massive dog still wildly licking her tongue in the air. She released her grip and Heda flopped onto her back, half in Clarkes’ lap. She rubbed Hedas’ soft tummy, and watched as the dogs tongue lolled out of her mouth. “You are such a stinky baby.” Clarke cooed, Heda did nothing to acknowledge this. Her leg started thumping the ground when Clarkes hand started scratching the side of her belly.  
“Clarke, you have to stop interrupting our training sessions.” Bellamys’ voice was right behind her now, albeit a little out of breath.  
“It’s not my fault, she loves me.”  
“She’s supposed to be free from distractions while tracking.”  
“What can I say? I’m always distracting to the ladies.” At this Bellamy rolled his eyes, but Clarke paid no attention to him as she kept doting on his dog.  
“What are you doing over by the training yards, anyway?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Oh uhhh, yeah. About that. I have a favor to ask.”  
“What’s up?”  
“We need to make another drop tonight.”  
“What? Why? Is Octavia okay?”  
“She is, it’s okay” She said, trying to calm him down before she continued, now meeting his eyes. They were wide and looked young again.  
“She got hurt, not badly! Just a wound on her leg. We need to get her medical supplies. I can handle that part, but you need to find a way to keep patrol clear from there again tonight.  
“Did you see it? How bad?” Clarke took a deep breath, knowing he wasn’t going to be receptive to any plan until he had his questions answered about his little sister.  
“I didn’t see it, Bell. She wasn’t there. Someone she was traveling with came for her.”  
“WHAT?” His voice was loud enough to be considered a shout, and he swiveled his head quickly to make sure he hadn’t drawn any attention. “She’s with a savage?” He seethed.  
“Look, the girl talked to me. She seemed like she had Octavia’s best interests in mind.” Clarke decided she would not mention the fact that Lexa had said she was the one that had stabbed Octavia.  
“Oh yeah? You sure about that? What if she tortured Octavia to get the information?” At this Clarke let a laugh escape her. Bellamys’ eyes narrowed.  
“Sorry it’s just.. the girl was the same size as Octavia, she looked hungry and tired. She didn’t look like much of a threat to me.”  
“Everything outside of the wall is a threat, Clarke.”  
“Octavia is outside of the wall.” She spat back. Bellamy let out a loud breath and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger, eyes squeezed shut. Heda let out a soft whine and nudged Clarkes’ hand with her nose, as Clarke had stopped petting her near the start of the conversation. She looked down again, meeting Hedas’ sweet gaze and resumed.  
“I’ll ask to switch with Miller. I’ll take his post.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Don’t thank me, I’m not doing it for you.” Clarkes’ only response to this was a slow nod.  
“Heda, up.” Bellamy commanded, his voice more of a bark. Heda got to her feet slowly and kept her head down as she walked away with Bellamy. Clarke wished she could steal that dog. 

The walk to the med ward was relatively short from the training yards. She briefly wondered if that had been purposeful placement. The doors swung open and she gathered her messy hair up into a loose bun, looking around the space. The heat wasn’t as bad today as it had been, and consequently there were less people in the space. She moved slowly, hoping to hear her mothers’ voice to aid in avoiding her. Like always, she was not that lucky.  
“Clarke, I didn’t think you were scheduled today.”  
“I’m not, I just figured I would come in. Everyone else is busy.” Her mother studied her for a moment before giving her a nod.  
“It’s about time you put more effort and care into your medical apprenticeship.” Clarke fought the urge to roll her eyes.  
“Dr. Griffin!” They both heard the call from the next room and Clarke tried to not let her relief show. Abby Griffin straightened her posture and walked past Clarke and into the room the call had come from. Clarke knew that there was no ‘in and out’ about this now, her mother knew she was here so she would have to stick it out for the day. She groaned, wishing she had better timing. She dropped her bag in the back and washed her hands until they felt raw. She didn’t know how long she had been standing there washing her hands for. She pressed her palms to her eyes and took a long breath before heading out of the doors to find a patient. 

"Atom, what happened to that hand?" She greeted, walking up to the first person she saw. He was holding a cloth around his hand that was splotched with red.  
"Clarke. I got into a disagreement with one of the sheep again as I was shearing her." Clarke made a tsk noise at him, gently taking his hand in her own. To his credit, he barely flinched as she started unwrapping the dressing.  
"Did you ask her if it was okay, first?"  
"Very funny, Clarke."  
"No jokes here, all ladies dig consent."  
"She's a sheep."  
"She knows what she wants." He laughed lightly and then grimaced as she ran water over the deep gash, the blood dripped into the pan she was working over. She knew the conversation was ridiculous, but it was better to keep them talking.  
"Which one was it?"  
"Which sheep?"  
"Yeah."  
"The youngest."  
"She doesn't have a name?"  
"Not that I can remember."  
"Well that's why. You're going to take her wool without giving her a name?"  
"If you don't stop, I'll name her Clarke." Clarke paused from cleaning the wound, holding gauze to it with one hand while she reached into a drawer with the other.  
"I would be honored to have a feisty sheep named after me."  
"Of course you would," he half said, half hissed as Clarke nonverbally directed him to keep pressure on his hand. She changed her gloves and got the needle and thread ready. She gently took back his hand and lifted the gauze.  
“So, do you feel like you made the right choice, going into farming?”  
“I’m not sure yet. I wanted to be a part of the scouts.”  
“I remember that, what changed?” She started the first thread, trying to be as gentle as possible. She still heard a small noise escape from his throat. She had remembered Atom training through school with the scouts, but changed quickly after school stopped.  
“My mom was worried about me and... I don’t know, I didn’t like it out there.”  
“That’s perfectly reasonable. I think it’s a little ridiculous that we pick our jobs at age 13, anyways.”  
“If you could go back, would you change yours?” Clarke made her last stitch before answering, cleaning the closed wound again. She thought about the medication sitting in the back room, behind the locked door.  
“I don’t think I could.” He nodded at this and inspected her work. She wrapped up his hand in gauze and taped it, letting him go. “No using that hand for the next few days. Tell Hannah I said she’s not allowed to put you back to work, and I’ll know if she does. Come back in a week so I can check on how it's healing and potentially take those out, okay?”  
“Of course. Thanks, Clarke!”  
“Anytime, Atom.”

The rest of the day was less eventful. She organized the back room and took a quick inventory, her eyebrows creasing. They didn’t have as much gauze as she would like. She spent her lunch break in the back, eating her bread in silence. Her eyes kept shifting to the medicine cabinet, trying to detect any changes. She had taken them from the back, in hopes to minimize the probability that someone other than her would notice anytime soon. She knew that when inventory came around she would have to come up with a plan, but that was a problem for future Clarke. The door swinging open startled her out of her thoughts, causing her to jump lightly.  
“Your mom told me I could find you back here.”  
“Raven! Is your leg okay?”  
“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay, Just here to ask about what I can do.” She huffed as she braced her arms on the table to lower herself into the chair next to Clarke.  
“Do for what.” Raven arched an eyebrow.  
“Oh, Raven, no. You don’t need to help with that.”  
“Clarke, please. Octavia needs all of us, not just you and Bell.”  
“She just needs medical supplies.”  
“So, what? You’re going to take them by yourself? You know how dangerous that is, Clarke.”  
“Ray, I'm the main one that does inventory here. I know my way around the stock.”  
“That doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”  
“It’s better than all of us going down for this.”  
“Will you stop playing the selfless heroine for one minute and recognize that you aren’t a disposable person? We don’t have enough doctors, we don’t have enough potential leaders. Hell, Clarke, you’ve always been the one to keep us together. You came up with the system to help Octavia. You take care of your dad, your mom, and the rest of us morons. Let me do something, Please.”  
“Ray, you’re a brilliant engineer, you aren’t disposable, either. Besides, what would you do if you got caught?”  
“What?”  
“What would you do? You think you can make it out there with your leg that's getting even worse?” The color drained from Ravens’ face, and Clarke wished she could eat her words.  
“Raven, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”  
“Didn’t mean what?” Raven cut her off, pushing herself up out of the chair. Clarke reached out to help stabilize her, but Raven’s glare stopped her short. Hands twitching, she folded them back in her lap but continued to look at Raven.  
“I didn’t mean to say that you shouldn’t be a part of this because of your leg.”  
“That’s exactly what you said, and you’re right. I wouldn’t survive out there. I wouldn’t put much money on you though, either.”  
“Octavia made it, so far.”  
“Octavia got stabbed in the leg, and she was a trained scout. I can’t believe we are even talking about this right now.” Raven's voice had moved from a hushed whisper to a low trembling voice and Clarkes’ chest felt tight.  
“I’m sorry, Ray.” Raven sighed and set a hand on Clarkes’ shoulder.  
“I know, Griffin. Just please, promise me you won’t be stupid.” Clarke smiled brightly back at Raven, nodding and placing her hand over Ravens’, giving it a light squeeze.  
“Promise.” Raven withdrew her hand and dug around in her pocket, dropping two small bent pieces of metal onto the table.  
“Use this for the lock. It’ll work better than whatever you were planning on doing.” Clarke nodded once more, scooping them up and shoving them into her own pocket. She wasn’t about to tell Raven that she had already broken into the medicine cabinet. Twice. She stood up and moved to the door to open it up for her friend. Clarke caught her arm as she was walking past and pulled her into a hug. Raven returned the motion, her arms wrapping around Clarkes’ neck.  
“We don’t deserve you.” At this, Clarke laughed.  
“People don’t deserve people, Ray.”  
“Leave your wise cryptic shit at home, Clarke. I used to hear enough of that from Jake.” They pulled apart and smiled at each other before Raven left, leaving Clarke to the rest of her day.

“Clarke, honey, we are going to run out of our flour rations for the month with all of the bread you’re baking” Clarke’s dad had been sitting at the dinner table, tinkering with his archaic watch and picking at his dinner.  
“Good thing I can live off of bread.”  
“No you can’t”  
“Watch me.”  
“Stubborn like your mother.”  
“Ridiculous like you.”  
“Touche, my wonderful daughter. Now stop with the bread and come help me with this.” Clarke sighed and wiped her hands off on a towel, taking in the disaster of a kitchen. She shook her head and took the seat next to her father, leaning over the backless watch.  
“Can you take this springbar and fix its placement?” Clarke took the small tool from him and put her face closer to the object, lightly prodding around. Her dad had taught her how to fix little things like watches and trinkets from a young age. He always joked that she took her steady hands to the wrong profession. She only agreed sometimes.  
“Perfect! You’ve still got it.” He said, beaming at her. She knew that he only asked her this time because his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She willed the tears to not come. Clarke cleared her throat.  
“You should’ve seen the stitches I did in Atoms’ hand today. Some of my best work yet.”  
“That’s great Clarke! I’m so proud of you.”  
“I got you more medicine, too.” He stiffened.  
“Clarke, you’re going to have to stop doing that.”  
“You know I won’t”  
“I know that you don’t have a choice. They’re going to notice.”  
“I’ll figure something out.”  
“Clarke.” He warned. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.  
“Let’s get you back to bed.” He sighed, placing his hand on his daughters and then nodded when she looked up at him.  
“Okay.”

After she got him settled down she returned to the kitchen to clean the mess she had made. She checked the time on her own watch and sighed. Another two hours before the drop. She really hoped that Bellamy had everything under control, and that this would be enough to help. Clarke shuffled to her bedroom after cleaning and looked around for something to carry the supplies in. They didn’t have any bags for this one, honestly they were going to run out of bags for the drops in general soon enough. She eyed her closet and pulled out an old sweatshirt, sewn in multiple places. She tied the neck of the sweatshirt into a knot and used the rest as a shallow bag, tying the arms together to create a makeshift strap. She emptied her own bag and relocated the strips of gauze, pill bottles, and a small container of alcohol. She grabbed another loaf of bread from the kitchen for good measure, as well.  
The sounds of her father lightly snoring from the back bedroom were providing a small amount of comfort as Clarke paced, checking the time often.  
“Fuck it,” She muttered to herself and headed out of the door a good 30 minutes early.  
She sat on the hill before the fence and looked up to the stars. There were only a few wispy clouds in the sky and her eyes adjusted quickly with the bright, almost full moon, hanging overhead. Time felt like it passed by more quickly out in the open, and she stood up, brushing the grass off of her backside as she walked forward. She moved the metal siding and poked her head out of the hole, looking around.  
“Lexa?” She called at a volume barely louder than a whisper.  
“Clarke.” The response came faintly as a figure emerged from the treeline. Clarke climbed through the hole and approached the treeline, keeping low.  
“I need to explain to you how to give these to her.” Clarke explained as she was shot a quizzical look. She thought it was quizzical, at least. It was hard to tell in this light.  
“This is amoxicillin” She explained, bringing her hand into the bag and pulling out the larger pill bottle. “It should help clear the bacteria and stop the infection, but you'll need to pair that with an anti-inflammatory” She dropped the bottle she was holding back into the bag and fished out the smaller one. “This is Aspirin, it should help with that, and hopefully some pain.” Lexa nodded, eyes watching the containers.  
“You'll need to change the gauze daily in this process, I have enough in here for a week, hopefully. You can use that with the bottle of alcohol to disinfect the area, but only use it a few times. We don’t want to overwhelm the wound.”  
“I understand” Lexa replied with a steady voice. It made Clarke realize how shaky hers had been.  
“I slipped some bread in there, as well.” Clarke thought that she almost saw Lexa smile at this, her lips quirking up just barely. Clarke gave a soft smile back.  
“Two weeks from yesterday I can try and get you a little more, but there will for sure be more food. Do you need anything else?”  
“Anything for the locks?” Clarke shook her head, there was no way she was going to be able to get away with that. Lexa nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Clarke.”  
“Of course, are you-” Clarke was cut off by Lexa’s hand slapping against her mouth, her eyes had gone wide. Clarke went to fight the hand pressing into her face off when she heard them, too. The voices couldn’t be mistaken, though soft and distant they were getting closer. They both stared at each other, not sure what to do next. There was no way Clarke could make it to the fence without being seen, and making their way anywhere else in a dark forest was bound to generate noise. Clarkes’ blood felt cold as her heart pumped it rapidly throughout her body. Fuck, shit, fuck. Lexas’ hand loosened and slipped away, her hand going to the knife tucked into the hem of her pants. Clarke grabbed for her arm softly, shaking her hand. A knife would do nothing against the guard. She was trying to sort through any possible escapes in her head, when her train of thought was interrupted by the shattering noise of a gunshot breaking the quiet of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A last ditch note and a close call.

She wondered what getting shot felt like, for a moment, as she felt all of the blood in her body pulse around the sound, almost like she was responding to the vibration of the ringing shot with ripples in her own body. She couldn't feel any pain, and though that should have comforted her, she couldn’t think beyond the static now filling her ears. The sound was only broken with small fragments of soft noises, a rustling of bushes, a quiet voice, a shouting in the distance.   
“Lexa” her body moved slightly, not of her own doing  
“Lexa, come on” She faintly acknowledged Clarke’s hard grip on her arms, shaking her lightly.  
“Lexa, we need to move. Now.” The urgency in Clarke’s voice was enough to break through to a clearer headspace this time, and she blinked a few times before ripping herself out of Clarkes grip, her chest moving heavily, green eyes locked with blue. She looked down at her own body, hands reaching behind to feel her own back for any sign of blood. She examined Clarke’s body as well, no blood. She was trembling softly, but her eyes were determined and sharp. Lexa sucked in a deep breath and nodded, waiting for Clarke’s directions.  
“You’re going to head East, regardless of where you need to go to get back. Once you reach the abandoned rubble about four miles in that direction,” she said while pointing to a less dense section of the heavy woods “You can either rest there for the night, or head North for about a mile before going wherever you need to go. If your direction is South, you need to go straight there after you reach the rubble instead of resting.” Lexa nodded at this, mentally mapping out how far West she would have to travel after all of this. She wasn’t very familiar with miles, but roughly knew how long it took her to walk one. She factored that in with unfamiliar woods and the darkness, letting out a breath she had been holding. She quietly shifted the poorly made sack on her shoulder and started to move past Clarke on light feet. A hand came out and caught her arm. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she shot Clarke a look that had her quickly pulling her hand back.  
“Just, please be safe” Clarke whispered, now not meeting Lexa’s eyes. “Octavia means a lot to me. To many of us.” She added, her voice now slightly lower. Lexa’s defensive posture relaxed a little and she gave another quick nod  
“I will be. Thank you.” Clarke’s face seemed to soften with her words, and she turned away from Lexa and back towards the fence. Lexa watched her with curiosity for a moment before continuing her trepid exit from the Wallers.   
The sun was rising as she blinked away the fog clouding her mind. She had stopped to rest at the ruins, and ended up nodding off against a crumbling concrete wall for longer than she had intended. With the addition of the morning light, she could see this place was larger than she could make out last night. She pressed her hands into the ground and felt small chunks of rock and concrete dig into her skin. She groaned and pushed herself up to her feet, standing slowly and stretching. Her bones cracked and her muscles groaned in protest as she reached her hands to the sky and rolled her head back. A loud yawn clawed out of her throat, the deep breath out sending curling fog into the air around her. She started walking slowly, toeing at old metal and brick. She might as well see if there was anything salvageable while she was here, though she highly doubted it. As she made her way through the space, she pictured it as it once was. The roads were hardly visible now, cracked by tree roots and covered in ivy, but you could still see them in some places. It looked like this would have been a small row of shops, of places strewn together and existing almost as one. People once used to walk in and out of these crumbled doorways, used to look in through windows that are now nothing more than dust and whatever small shards of glass are left. She kicked over a sheet of rusted metal and bugs skittered out from beneath it, upset by the disturbance of their home. She had been hungry enough to eat bugs more than a few times, and her stomach grumbled at the thought. She took a moment to look inside of the bag and a grin split across her face as she tore a small chunk of bread off of the golden loaf. She savored it, swallowing only when she couldn't handle chewing anymore. There was something different about this one, she thought. Maybe it was the garlic Octavia had mentioned when they shared the first bread. She hummed lightly and pressed forwards, exploring deeper into the little world. She frowned as she approached a slightly more intact building, a partial roof held by plants alone. It felt different when she looked at it, goosebumps rising on her arms. She dropped down a bit, moving towards it cautiously while listening for any sounds of life. She jumped back as a mouse shot out of the space. She let out a breath and pressed on, now looking inside of the entrance. There were signs of life, but they didn't look fresh. The remains of an old fire, a tattered blanket, a broken knife. There were also small stacks of rocks, and old shoe prints in the gritty ground. She looked around for a bit and ran her fingers over the blanket. It was damp and cold, forgotten. Loose leaves had settled on it, molding where they touched. She stayed crouched, her gaze moving to the walls. Marks were made everywhere, each one score, about the length of a hand. They looked like charcoal, and she quickly spotted small chunks of burnt wood littering the floor right by the wall. She started to understand a system, fourteen marks per grouping. A calendar to keep on track. The last mark circled a few times. Further into the building on the same wall, a list she presumed. She worked hard to read it, trying to remember some of the letters taught to her long ago. 

Food?  
cold  
WATER  
map  
Flint  
Help

Some of the words had been crossed out, and some Lexa was not able to decipher, smudged or scratched in with such urgency that she couldn't understand what they were written about. Finally, what looked to be a note, but one part looked much more recent. It was easy enough to read:  
Lincoln, I'll meet you there.   
And above that, much harder to make out:  
Mom, where are you? -O

She looked around the small area again with new eyes. Octavia had to have been living here alone for months. On her own for the first time, surviving with little help. She tried to remember the first few months she had been alone, but she couldn't think of anything other than numbness and fear. Of wanting to follow her family into death. She shivered despite the rising heat of the day, and made her way out of the structure carefully. She stepped out of what would have been the threshold, and allowed herself to be still and breathe a few times before making her way out of the entire area, giving up on any hopes to scavenge. This place would have been picked clean, she's sure of it now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.

Her heart was still pounding as she made her way up the hill and listened to the silence of the night that had returned. She stepped lightly when she got close to her house, a figure sitting in the darkness, their back pressed to the wall. As Clarke crept forward the person's head snapped up and she froze, meeting Bellamy's wide eyes. His hair was plastered back with sweat, and everything about him looked distraught. She came closer as he pushed himself up and off the wall, closing the gap between them and pulling her into a crushing hug.   
"I'm so glad you're okay" his voice was muffled from his head being buried into her shoulder.   
"What happened, Bell?" Her tone was light and high, she hardly recognized it with how shaken up she sounded.   
"They were going to find you, they changed course because they heard something. I had to do something so I just. Fired my weapon in the air." She sucked in a breath, feeling a weight leave her chest now that she knew for sure that there was no threat with the shot. It was a distraction, a warning, a last ditch effort.   
"Were they upset with you?" He shook his head, some strands of hair flopping down onto his forehead before he pushed them back up.   
"They just told me to get some sleep. I told them I fired because I nodded off on watch and must have accidentally squeezed the trigger."   
"They didn't ask about your safety switch or anything?" He shook his head  
"I think they were all shaken up, too. They just wanted to make sure I was okay." Clarke nodded at this, stepping back from Bellamy and turning her head towards her door.   
"You should actually get some sleep, Bell. I got the bag to her and everything will be okay. Thank you for looking out for us." He chewed on his lip and moved his head in small agreement before turning and trudging across the hill. She watched him until he disappeared over the other side, heading back to his part of the compound. She worried about him, she had since Octavia had been exiled. Since his mother had been exiled. The siblings had lived with Clarke and her family until Bellamy was 16, and Octavia was 11. They moved into Scout Hall after that. They had shared a room their whole lives. Shared provisions, food, friends. Bellamy was alone now, in almost every sense. He had broken down only once in the time that she had known him. She held him as he sobbed, fists balled up in her shirt and occasionally shining out words like "should have been me", "responsibility", and "so empty and quiet". He had never been the same after that, and she didn't think she was, either. She stood there for another few minutes before slowly opening the door, cringing when it creaked. She slid inside the small opening she had made and turned towards the door to push it closed as quietly as she could. To her relief, it didn't squeak and closed with only a small click of the latch falling back into place. She turned around and jumped, barely containing a scream as she came face to face with her mother. She went to open her mouth but no sound came out, and her mother's hand shot forward and grasped onto Clarke's arm, dragging her forward and into the living room. She sat her down in a chair and Clarke stayed there numbly as her mother flitted around the dark trying to light a few candles. She stood up to help at one point, but was frozen by her mother's low growl of   
"Don't you dare move." Clarke sunk deeper into the worn chair, wondering if she could disappear into it. After there was a dim glow established in the room, Abby pulled a chair from the dining table around to sit directly in front of Clarke, her back straight and eyes angry, the emotion visible even in the low light. She looked down, refusing to hold her mother's withering stare.   
After what felt like an hour of silence, that was most likely a handful of minutes, her mother broke the silence.   
"What the fuck were you thinking?"  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
"Don't play stupid with me. I ran outside when I heard the shots. You were nowhere to be seen. And then Bellamy comes running up to the house and, God, the things you talked about?" Clarke bit at the inside of her cheek so hard it started to bleed. "So? What the fuck were you thinking?"  
"That my friend needed help, mom!"  
"Your friend lost the right to help when she went after Jaha."  
"She was practically your kid too, mom. You promised you would look after her. What happened to that?"   
"What happened?!?" Her mother's voice raised beyond an angry whisper now. Clarke flinched and the influx of volume and anger. "What happened was that octavia tried to kill Jaha, and we have laws to follow."  
"Maybe the rules should be more forgiving"  
"She was going to murder him, Clarke."  
"Because he exiled her mother."  
"Auror-" she stuttered on the name, tears welling in her eyes. "Octavia's mother broke the law."  
"They left her with nothing."  
"She had her brother."  
"She deserved a mother."  
"She made her choice, Clarke. Now you're making yours."  
"How are things so black and white to you?'  
"Without order, this place we've built will crumble. Our medicine, our food, our safety. We need strict laws, Clarke. We need stricter punishments for those that break them."  
"So what? Are you going to turn us in?"  
Abby's face twisted into one of pain at those words.  
"Clarke, no. You have to promise me that you'll never do it again."  
"I can't promise that."  
"I can't keep this secret for you if it doesn't stop here. You will not be doing this again. Not under my roof, not in these walls. Do you understand?" Clarke's tears were now falling down her face and landing in her lap, soaking into the fabric of her pants. She nodded slowly. Her mother's fingers wrapped around her jaw painfully, lifting her head to meet her eyes. "Tell me you understand, Clarke. Swear it."  
"I won't do it again." She said through gritted teeth. She couldn't see through her blurry eyes, and her mouth tasted like blood and salt. Her mother held her like that for a moment before dropping her hand, sighing, and picking herself up off the chair. Clarke stayed in her exact position, focusing on the candle that was left burning. She could hear her parents lightly arguing once their door shut, and still she stayed in the chair, shaking lightly.

She eventually rose and blew the candle out, trudging to her bedroom. She swung the door shut and collapsed into bed, fighting back her tears and resuming chewing on her cheek. Her hands found her blankets and she pulled them up over her head, curling in on herself. She knew that she wouldn't keep her word. She feared that her mother knew that as well.


End file.
